


Oh! What it seemed to be!

by orphan_account



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Depictions of anxiety/panic attacks, Other, tranquility lane!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 19:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8069029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Aléjando wakes up in a world they don't recognize. They begin to discover everything around them has changed, including their best friend and traveling companion, Butch Deloria.





	1. I Can Dream, Can't I?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thecoilsofnikolatesla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecoilsofnikolatesla/gifts).



> I tried not to drag the panic attack descriptions out too much, but they are present. In all, the story is very stressful. If you're easily affected by this, please read in a place where you feel safe and comfortable.
> 
> Special thank you to Rosário for the character of Sebastián!

_But it's merely an illusion  
Like your heart and mine  
There is no sweet conclusion_

Sebastián’s eyes fluttered open, squinting through the beams of light streaming in from their left. The mattress shifted on their right- mattress? They hummed softly, body not kicking the signals from any of their old familiar aches up to their brain. They actually felt… good, well rested and clear headed.

“Look who finally woke up,” A warm voice mumbled into their ear. It can’t be- Butch? “You were snoring all night,” Butch said, rising from beneath the cover of a fluffy comforter to press a gentle kiss to Sebastián’s cheek. “‘S kinda cute,” he added, draping a bare arm across Seb’s chest. His hand moved to play with their ear idly. 

“Butch?” Sebastián asked, brows knitting together in confusion. The room around them had no signs of dirt, no wear on the walls- nothing. All of the paint, everything, it all looked brand new. They hadn’t seen anything so clean since the Vault. Did they fall asleep here last night? No- this didn’t make any sense? 

Seb could hear their heart thudding in their eardrums. Was the room spinning?

“Whoa, babe, you okay?” Butch hovered over them a bit now, pushed up on his elbows. They could see the freckles spattered over his chest and right now it felt like the only familiar thing around them. 

“Babe?” Sebastián choked out, jolting upwards in the bed, and knocking Butch back with a grunt in the process. 

He rubbed his forehead, “Yes? Gee, what got into ya? If my mornin’ breath is that bad you can just say somethin’,” Butch pushed back the covers completely, climbing down onto the floor. 

Sebastián swallowed hard, watching the muscles of Butch’s back as he ducked into what Sebastián assumed was a bathroom- their bathroom? 

“You joinin’ me?” Butch yelled from inside, water already running in the background.

Seb raised a hand to pinch at their face. Nothing. They weren’t dreaming. Then how were they here? What was this place? They squeezed their eyes shut, trying to recall the last thing they could possibly remember. 

“Sebastián?” 

“Uh. Not today!” They yelled back, unsure of themselves and everything around them. “This seems so real,” they whispered, feeling at the soft edges of the bedsheet. 

Slowly, Sebastián turned toward the edge of the bed. They looked around for their prosthetic, but didn’t see it anywhere. Great, now they were literally trapped in this nightmare room.  
Correction: being with Butch like this wouldn’t be a nightmare usually, but it just- it wasn’t right. Nothing was right.

They shifted further down toward the end of the bed, just far enough to peek outside the open window. 

“It can’t be-,” Sebastián saw lush green grass covering yards, and empty spaces right outside the home. They could see other homes, all circled around what appeared to be a small park. There were even a couple of children playing on the swing sets. Leaves rustled against a gentle breeze, and they swore they could hear birds chirping. 

Their mouth felt dry. The walls were starting to creep unbearably closer to them, and they just wanted out. Out of this room, out of whatever the hell this was. 

_“No, Butch! We have to go in there! It’s the only way!”_

_“I’m checkin’ these terminals and it don’t seem like-”_

_“Butch! It’s my Father! He has my Father in there!”_

_“Okay Nosebleed, okay. Let’s go get him.”_

They squeezed their eyes shut, head aching with the memory. A memory of what? Where had they been? Did that happen before they ended up here? Seb groaned in frustration, in agony even, fingertips pressing down hard against their temples. 

“Hey, you okay?” Butch called from the other side of the room, towel hanging low around his waist. 

Seb turned their gaze away, went back to staring numbly outside, “It’s just a headache,” a half truth. 

“You’ve been having those a lot lately,” Butch provided. Seb couldn’t remember, didn’t know about anything before waking up in the bed. “I’ll get you somethin’ for it. Oh, and your prosthetic,” he chuckled, “we were kinda in a hurry to get up here last night.” 

Their face felt hot, “Thanks.” They didn’t even want to know what that meant. A hurry to get up here, to do… Seb covered their face with their hand. No- no- they didn’t do those kinds of things with Butch. They’d never done those kinds of things with him. 

Their eyes half focused on a figure swinging outside. Forward, back, forward, back. Just like their breaths, in, out, in, out. Seb’s fingertips curled into the edges of their shorts, chest rising and falling unsteadily. They knew they were standing close to the edge of their mind, all it would take is a little push to go falling through the panic. The blackness. 

A steady hand on their shoulder brought the world back to clarity, as clear as this place could be anyway. “Easy,” Butch said, “deep breaths. Here, take these and drink this,” he handed them a glass of water which they quickly downed along with the pills. They hadn’t even thought to check what medicine they were being given. Too late now.

Sebastián flinched when they felt fingers touching their thigh, head snapping in Butch’s direction to see him holding onto the mouth of their prosthetic. It looked different, wrong. Not like the one they’d always worn but more… leg-like. It had a knee, an ankle, a foot. “Don’t,” they breathed out shakily. 

“It’s okay,” Butch soothed, all too well for their own good. “I won’t pinch you this time,” he snickered warmly, gentle touches guiding the prosthetic socket to Seb’s leg. He carefully secured the harness, adjusting the straps until they were snug. It felt like he’d practiced this more than Seb could remember. They’d never let Butch do this before- but this wasn’t- this wasn’t Butch. Not like they’d known him anyway.

When Butch finished, he reached out a hand to help Sebastián up, then backed off completely. “I’m gonna get dressed, then how about some breakfast, huh?” 

Seb nodded a few times, running their fingers over the edges of the empty glass in their hands. 

“Here, I’ll take that down for you,” Butch came back into their space just long enough to take the cup, then disappeared down what sounded like a staircase.

“Shit,” Seb breathed, rushing over toward the bathroom. They were going to be sick.


	2. Call it Stormy Monday

_They call it stormy Monday, but Tuesday's just as bad  
They call it stormy Monday, but Tuesday's just as bad  
Wednesday's worse, and Thursday's also sad_

Butch was laughing. 

Sebastian blinked away the haze they’d been in since breakfast. What time was it? Their eyes dropped to check their Pip-boy but only met with the sight of a bare wrist. Seb shivered, they felt naked without it. 

“She didn’t!” Butch proclaimed to their apparent neighbor, Mabel, who’d stopped by a while ago with a meat pie. A gift, she’d said, for Butch’s help with her home’s cooling system. What did that mean? Did Butch fix things for people now? 

Mabel nodded, hand moving to touch at Butch’s shoulder and whisper more gossip to him. Sebastian could hear every word, they simply chose not to process it. Their mind had more to deal with now. 

They worried if they stared at the slice of pie on their plate any longer it’d grow eyes and blink at them. Seb hoped they weren’t being too obvious about their discomfort. They didn’t want to throw off the man who wore Butch’s face.

“Hey,” a voice said, breaking through the noise with a touch to their hand. “You alright?” 

Dammit, they knew they’d been foolish to think he wouldn’t notice. “Yes, I’m just-”

“Headache still?”

Mabel watched them with saucer-like eyes. They nodded, swallowing hard. “I think I’m going to go up and rest,” they pulled their hand away, ignoring the burning sensation Butch’s warm touch had left. “Thank you for the pie, Mabel,” they managed. 

“You’re welcome dearie, I sure hope you start feeling better! Don’t mind me, I’ll keep your Butch plenty busy while you’re gone!” She shared a laugh with Butch.

Sebastian headed for the stairs, something like jealousy stinging their tongue. They knew they had no right to feel it, considering how they’d woken up this morning but- shit. How could this all be happening?

Upstairs, they began making quick work of every drawer in the room, desperately searching for their Pip-Boy. Perhaps that would offer more clues. 

At one point they stopped to close the bedroom door, mind bothered by the sound of Butch and Mabel chattering away. He didn’t know her, he couldn’t know her because Seb didn’t know her- they did everything together. So, how did they end up here- together?

The last dresser drawer, beneath a stack of clothes, finally revealed a piece of evidence. Sebastian gasped, dragging out the thick book onto their lap. 

Upon opening the cover, their stomach sank. “What-?” Pages, that’s what it held, pages of photographs. Pictures of them and Butch doing everyday things with smiles on their faces. How old were these?

Their fingers scrambled to free a photo, desperate to see if anything had been written on the back. 

Us at the Rockwell Barbeque July 4th, 2081

The photo tipped from their hands and onto the floor. “No,” Sebastian gasped, easily recognizing their own handwriting. No, that’s impossible. 2080 hadn’t happened yet. 

They flipped through the book, snatching photos from their sleeves only to see the number go higher and higher and- 

Our wedding October 21st, 2083

Everything crashed to a stop. Their breaths began to shake, and they couldn’t tear their eyes away from the faces in the picture. Laughing, smeared in what looked like cake, just so- “Happy,” Sebastian breathed out, hands shoving the album away from them. They scrambled backwards on the floor until they’d completely put themself into a corner. 

They pulled their knees up to their chest, hugging them tightly. 

It couldn’t be- this couldn’t be possible- how had they married Butch and not remembered it? How did this place exist, to begin with? Questions spun circles around their mind, each more daunting than the next. Air shuddered out of them, each breath shallower than the last.

_“I just don’t think this thing is safe for you to get in.”_

_“It doesn’t matter Butch! Can’t you see! I have to! I have to do something!”_

_“These logs say its’a simulation! Anything could be happenin’ in there! Your Dad wouldn’t want ya to do this, ‘n you know it!”_

_“Leave him out of this! Don’t talk about him! You have no right to-”_

_“I have every right! I been with you since this shit started! Fuck off with that! You’re outta your mind if you think you’re goin’ in alone!”_

_“No, I can’t risk you coming in with me and possibly being hurt. I can’t be responsible for-”_

_“It wasn’t a request.”_

_“You- fine… start the pods up.”_

The memory danced around them, the faint smell of a damp, rusty room reminding them of where they’d been. They remembered that smell, the same one had always lingered around the reactor rooms back home. A Vault. They’d been in a Vault. Which Vault?

Seb groaned out in frustration, letting their head bang back against the wall.


End file.
